Shrug
by AinsleySchoen
Summary: Through it all, their anger was noncommital, like a shrug.


"Don't you believe in anything anymore James?" She screamed, her face flushed with anger and tears. Wilson smiled sadly, turning to face her.

"Beyond you, not anything else is believable." Staring into Allison's eyes, Wilson made a mental picture of her fierce gaze, for he knew that the second he walked out of their home, he would never see it again. Tears rolled down her face, their watery tracks lining her smooth skin. Her body shook as she walked around the couch, his name on her lips silently. Putting herself between the door and the man she loved, Allison summoned her strength and resolve.

"James, please don't go," she said, her voice trembling. Wilson took two hesitant steps forward and placed his hand on Allison's face, sliding his palm across her cheek until his long fingers could tangle in the curls at the base of her neck. "Don't go," she whispered as his lips crashed against hers. Snaking her hands around his trim waist, Allison pulled Wilson's body against hers, running her palms up his back. They pulled apart after a long moment, gasping for breath. Tears stained Wilson's shirt as Allison buried her face in his shoulder, her fingers curling around his forearms. Standing in the foyer of the house they had made a home, the Wilson's retightened their grasp on their marriage once again.

* * *

It hadn't always been fighting, of course. They were blissful times, punctuated with disagreement. Now, after ten years, it was the other way around. To figure out what went wrong, one would have to figure out first how it went right.

* * *

For the first time in her life, at least that she could remember, Dr. Allison Cameron was running late, horribly late. Staring anxiously at her watch, Cameron tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her Saab, fighting the urge to scream at the traffic. After another ten minutes passed, there was a break in the traffic, allowing Cameron to speed towards her exit and get off the wretched highway. Pulling into the parking lot at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Cameron hurriedly locked her car and sprinted inside, holding her black satin skirt down against the wind. Stepping onto the elevator with another man, presumably a doctor, Cameron stilled her breathing as the elevator began its ascent. She closed her eyes for a moment to control herself. Even with her sight blinded by her eyelids, Cameron could feel the gaze of the doctor next her boring into her body. Opening her eyes, she caught his eye in the shiny door and smiled. 

"Do you always run to work?" he asked, turning to face her. Cameron blushed, embarrassed that he had noticed her unfeminine sprint.

"No, I'm just late for an interview and I didn't want to be any later."

"Allison Cameron, right?" the man asked, with a smile. Cameron was surprised.

"Yes. How'd you know?" The man smiled.

"Educated guess. You're interviewing with Dr. House, right?" he asked, as the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at their floor. Stepping aside and letting Cameron pass, the man followed her path out and into the hallway. Cameron realized she hadn't answered his question.

"Oh, yes, with Dr. House. Where is his office?" she asked distractedly, looking around. The man smiled again, and pointed to a darkened room.

"Trust me. With House, the last thing you have to worry about is being late." Cameron sighed, relieved. "Good luck, Dr. Cameron."

"Oh, wait," Cameron said, before the man walked away. He stopped, and stood, waiting. "I, um, I didn't catch your name. Dr. something, I'm sure," she said, with a nervous laugh. The man smiled.

"James Wilson," he said, retracing the few steps he had taken and extending his hand. Cameron's mouth dropped slightly. Dr. James Wilson was known over the country for his extremely respectable work in the Oncology field. Cameron took his hand, shaking it softly. Wilson could tell she was embarrassed. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Cameron," he said.

"It's Allison," Cameron blurted out, as he walked away. He smiled to himself, turning again.

"Then James will do fine for me." Cameron mouthed wordlessly as he returned to his office. Watching his retreating form, she sunk into a chair set against the wall. Sighing, she placed her head in her hands, her skin still hot to the touch.

"Great job Allison," she mumbled.

"Talks to self. Normally a sign of extremely loneliness, discomfort with others, and general displeasure with self," a gruff voice in front of her said. Snapping up, Cameron met the gaze of a tall man with a cane. "You might be insane, but you have an MD, which is good enough for me. You're hired. Get the files you need from Satan at the front desk and come back to my office. I'll be doing something totally unrelated to work, and probably not pay attention to you, so you might have to be assertive". Cameron just stared at the man for a long moment, unsure of what to say or do. "Go!" the man barked, before rolling his eyes and limping over to the darkened office labeled "Dr. Gregory House-Diagnostics". Sighing, Cameron stood. Opening her mouth, she shut it quickly, not wanting to satiate Dr. House's stereotype anymore than she already had.

* * *

For months they toyed with each other's emotions, playing off what they knew would be triggers. Wilson and Cameron got along better than House and Cameron (not that that was saying much), and Wilson found himself finding excuses to seek Cameron out. Though he suspected it, Wilson didn't know that Cameron was doing the same thing.

* * *

Switching the light off in the office, Cameron yawned and tugged her briefcase up on her shoulder, making sure she had slid the group of manila folders she'd been working on into the leather side pouch. Checking the lectern one last time, Cameron let herself out, yawning again. The hallways were dark, as they should be at almost midnight, but a wedge of light coming from Wilson's office clued Cameron in to his lack of departure. Smiling, she stepped into his office, knocking lightly on the doorframe as she entered. Wilson stood with his back to the door, watching the gentle rainfall outside. Upon Cameron's knock, he turned and smiled, his eyes dull with exhaustion. Setting her bag down, Cameron sat down in a plush chair flush with the wall nearest to the door. 

"What're you still doing here?" he asked, sitting on the edge of his desk. Cameron smiled.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You could, but I asked you first."

"I was finishing some charts."

"For House?" Cameron scowled.

"No. What makes you think they were for House?"

"Your charts would be done on time." Cameron sighed, knowing he was right.

"I just don't want charts to slow Diagnostics down." Wilson raised an eyebrow. "What? I don't!"

"Okay," he said, putting his hands up. "I believe you." They sat in silence for a minute.

"What about you? Why are you still here?"

"I don't want to go home." Cameron furrowed her brow.

"Why not? Surely House is asleep by now." Wilson laughed.

"House most likely isn't even there. It's a Friday, which means he probably out getting drunk." Cameron frowned, but that frown turned into a smile when she imagined House stumbling into his townhouse at 3 in the morning, totally plastered.

"So you'd rather sit in your empty office all night than go home and enjoy a quiet, House-less evening?"

"I'm not in an empty office. You're here. And it wouldn't really be that quiet. Steve McQueen hates me, and makes quite a ruckus when I'm home and House isn't."

"I still can't believe that House hasn't killed that rat."

"You and me both." Cameron laughed, and stood up, straightening her skirt and picking her briefcase up. "Leaving so soon?"

"I need to go home. I'm exhausted."

"You don't look it." Cameron blushed immediately at his comment, quickly reminding herself that it most likely meant nothing other than that she was good with makeup.

"Thanks Jim. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a good night Allison." Hurrying out of the office, Cameron fought the flush that raced over her body, the same flush that crossed it every time Wilson smiled in her general direction.

Watching her swaying body all the down the hall, Wilson fought the stirring in the pit of his stomach. It was true; he was physically attracted to Cameron, but who wasn't? More than just a physical attraction, however, his attraction was deeply emotional. He was starting to feel towards Cameron as he had only one other person in his life, his first wife, Catherine. The feeling with Catherine had lasted only through their first date before it became a feeling of normality. His feelings towards Cameron had outlasted those with Catherine almost ten fold, and were increasing. Sighing softly, Wilson returned to standing in front of his window, watching the rain.

* * *

They constantly played off each other.

* * *

Running down the hallway, cursing her heels, Cameron was frantic. 

"House...shot...losing blood." The words ran through her mind, assaulting her inner emotions. Skidding around the corner, her eyes fixed on House's bleeding neck and abdomen, Cameron felt her own pulse thundering in her head. Dropping back as the gurney was pushed through the ER doors, she was left standing in the hallway, feeling very alone. Looking down, Cameron saw that her own clothes were covered in House's blood and heard the vomit hit the floor before she even felt the nausea. Clutching her waist, Cameron stumbled over to a garbage can as her stomach continued to heave its contents. Gasping for breath, Cameron wretched again, feeling the sharp pain in her ribs grip her whole body. There was suddenly a pair of strong hands on her shoulders, and her hair was brushed back from her face as she continued to vomit. For another thirty seconds she heaved and gasped, tears running down her face from exertion and exhaustion. Her stomach finally stilled, and she straightened up, following the hands guiding her to sit.

"Allison, are you okay?" a concerned voice asked. Wiping her eyes, Cameron looked up to find that it was Wilson that had rushed to her side. Nodding weakly, Cameron saw his features relax slightly. "Come on, let's get you some water and clean clothes." Cameron followed Wilson's lead as he stood her up, keeping one arm tight around her waist. Halfway to the elevator, Cameron stopped and spun in Wilson's arms. Steadying herself against his chest, Cameron fought the nausea.

"I can go by myself James; you have to go check on House." Wilson shook his head 'no' and continued to walk Cameron down the hall.

"There's nothing I can do. He's going to need surgery so all I could do is watch." Cameron's shoulders slumped, resolved to the fact that Wilson was right: there was nothing that they could do. Placing his hand around her shoulders, Wilson guided Cameron back to his office, where he sat her down and left her there, going to retrieve scrubs and water. Sitting in Wilson's very familiar office, Cameron looked around, realizing for the first time that his office was a box. Not spaciously speaking, but decoration-wise too: there were no pictures, no accolades, nothing to denote his extreme success as a doctor. The room was simply a large, open box. Oblivious to the fact that Wilson had returned, Cameron made to stand up. As soon as she both feet on the ground, the room spun and she went down. Dropping the scrubs and water bottle he was holding, Wilson lunged out and caught Cameron the second before she hit the ground. Opening and closing her eyes rapidly, Cameron tried desperately to get her bearings. Settling down on the ground, Wilson cradled Cameron's head and torso in his lap, reaching for the water he had brought with him. Twisting the cap off, he handed Cameron the bottle, urging her to take small, slow sips. She was presenting all of the signs of clinical exhaustion, something that concerned Wilson.

Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, Wilson watched and waited to see if the color would return to her sallow complexion. Finally, after a long ten minutes and a whole bottle of water, the faintest pink tinge appeared on her cheeks. During the whole episode, Cameron hadn't said word. She had only matched her breathing to Wilson's. Staring up in his eyes, Cameron felt something other than gravity pulling her to him. The tug in her chest pulled her till she was on her knees and turned to face him. The voice in the back of her mind that normally warned her against anything immoral was quiet, and her resolve was set. Her hands came to rest flush against his strong chest as her forehead bumped gently against his. For a long moment they breathed in unison, before their lips were on each other's, searching desperately for answers. Gasping, Cameron pulled away suddenly, her hand flying up to her mouth. Wilson's face, flushed with arousal, studied her for a long moment.

"James, we can't... House... we..." Cameron stuttered, settling back on her knees. Her heart was pounding, as she was sure Wilson's was too. He nodded slowly.

"Allison," he said, taking her hands in his and pulling her back to him. "House is going to be fine".

"You sound pretty sure of that."

"I'm not, but it's a lie I need to tell myself." Cameron looked down, feeling the lump in her throat. "Allison, I need you..." he trailed off, as she raised her head to meet his gaze. He could tell immediately by the fire in her eyes that she needed him too.

* * *

She refused him the first time. He refused her the second time. The third time, they met halfway. That's how their relationship was for the most part: halfway.

* * *

Lying in Wilson's lap, Cameron sucked thoughtfully on a piece of ice. Wilson ran his fingers lazily over her forearm, watching TV over her head. Cameron yawned and nuzzled into his chest, curling her fingers around his thick, black sweater. 

"James?" Cameron asked, scooting up in a sitting position. He grunted, without taking his eyes off the TV. Cameron crawled into his lap, straddling his legs and taking his face in her hands. "James Evan?" He looked her in the eyes and smiled.

"What, baby?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips. She wiggled her hips suggestively against his groin, causing his eyes to slip shut for a second.

"Let's go to bed," she growled in his ear. Wilson nodded, his eyes boring into her. Clicking the TV off over her shoulder, Wilson slipped his hands around her waist, her legs locked around his hips, and carried her across the living room and into the bedroom. Gently peppering his neck and jaw line with kisses, Cameron tugged at the hem of his sweater as he pushed the door shut with his foot. His lips found hers, and his tongue gently pushed inside her mouth. Setting her down on their bed, she finally removed his sweater and undershirt, as his hands nimbly unbuttoned her shirt. Kissing her neck, he began to trace a trail between her breasts, kissing her erect nipple through the rough lace of her bra. Groaning as his teeth found purchase around the flesh, Cameron worked to unbuckle his belt and jeans. Pushing her down flat against the bed, Wilson unzipped her skirt, tossing it to the floor after Cameron wormed out of it. Kissing the tender flesh on the inside of her thigh, Wilson could feel the heat radiating from her core. Squirming under his kisses, Cameron pulled Wilson up so that his body was resting on top of hers.

"Allis..." he started. His voice caught in his throat as soon as her hand slipped into his boxers and her palm closed around his hardened flesh. Groaning loudly, Wilson wrapped her body in his embrace and turned them over. There, they slipped into oblivion.

For a half hour, they lay there, sweaty and flushed, their breathing matching in low, deep breaths. Finally rolling over, Cameron nuzzled into Wilson's chest, kissing his neck.

"Allison," he started. Cameron shook her head.

"You don't have to ask again, James. The answer is yes," she yawned, closing her eyes to sleep. Smiling to himself, Wilson kissed the top of her head, whispered "I love you" and drifted off to sleep with her.

* * *

The one thing that they never had to be reminded of was the fact that forever was a very, very long time.

* * *

"Oh, Allison, you look beautiful," Cameron's oldest brother, Daniel, breathed. Smiling from behind her delicate lace veil, Cameron sat gingerly, so as not to wrinkle her dress. Squeezing his sister's shoulder, Daniel left to return to the groom's room, leaving Cameron alone for the moment. Standing as soon as the door shut, Cameron gently pulled her veil back to reapply her lipstick. The butterflies in her stomach were a million times more excited than when she'd married Michael. Surveying her reflection in the mirror, Cameron smiled wide, showing her teeth. Her dress was both modest and elegant: the rich satin base of the dress hugged her curves; the neck was a low V, mimicked in the back, with the V extending to the base of her spine; the shell of the dress was covered with a thick, opaque lace; straps, an inch thick, crossed behind her neck, in a faux halter, before streaming down the sides of her back. Sighing softly, Cameron stepped from the mirror and came to stand in front of the large picture window. Looking out across the snowy courtyard of the Sandrine-Louisa Hotel, Cameron closed her eyes in thought. Slipping in reverie, Cameron's thoughts were interrupted by the open and shut of the room door. Turning, Cameron met the stare of House, smiling a lopsided smile. 

"Wow, Cameron. You're a girl," he said, crossing the room with his cane-free arm open, inviting Cameron in for a hug. Cameron laughed gently, stepping into House's uncharacteristic embrace. "Now, it's not too late to walk away. We could catch the next plane to Vegas and be hitched by dinner time," he said mock-seriously, sitting down. Cameron cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, never mind. Jeez, you're not fun".

"How's James?" Cameron asked, sitting on the couch next to House. House shrugged.

"He's the same as he was last night. Oh, wait, that's not right. There are no strippers this time." Cameron's mouth dropped. "Gotcha". Cameron smacked House's head lightly, rolling her eyes. "He's fine. Nervous as hell, as is expected. You know, you'd think weddings would be less stressful: you're guaranteed sex at the end of the night!" Cameron laughed. The door opened again, ushering in Cameron's family: her step-mother, Brenda, father, Jack, and brothers, Daniel, Alex, and Matthew. "That's my cue to run," House whispered. Cameron giggled.

"House, _can_ you run?" House looked her dead in the eye.

"You ever see me in the same vicinity as Stacy? I can make good time if I need to." Cameron smiled. "Good luck, Cameron. Don't trip," House's disembodied voice said from the hallway.

Pacing back and forth in front of the mirror in his room, Wilson was more nervous than he had ever been. Wringing his hands in front of him, Wilson jumped a mile when House stepped in, informing him that it was, in no uncertain terms, time to go. Breathing deeply, Wilson nodded.

"Do you have the rings?" Wilson asked, following House out into the hallway. House shoved his left hand in his pocket and pulled two platinum bands out. Wilson nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. House was his lone groomsman, his best man; Allison's bridesmaid and maid of honor was Cuddy, a choice that had surprised House and Wilson. Turning the corner and coming to stop outside the banquet hall, House placed his hand on Wilson's shoulder.

"Make this work, Wonder Boy. She's worth it." Wilson nodded, and stepped over the threshold to the hall, the door held open by House. Stepping in front of the first row of his family, Wilson smiled at Father Andrani, his mother, and his sister, Bethany. A hush came over the room as _Bach's Prelude in G Major_ began to float through the room. Though House had ridiculed Cameron's choice for a processional, Wilson found himself soothed by the familiar piece. The doors in the back of the hall opened, revealing Cuddy, dressed in a beautiful, simple grapefruit colored halter top dress. Holding a bouquet of delicate pink roses, she walked down the aisle, her steps fluid despite her three inch heels. Smiling at Wilson and House as she reached the front, she turned left, and came to a stop. Breathing deeply, Wilson saw for the first time that day the woman that was to become his wife. Gasping slightly as the guest rose to their feet, Wilson made eye contact with Cameron through her veil. Her right arm was slipped through her father's, her left hand holding her roses. Smiling widely at Wilson, she mouthed "I love you" as they reached the front. Gently folding her veil back, Jack kissed his daughter's cheek, before replacing her veil and turning to face the priest.

"Who gives this woman to be married?"

"Her family and I." Squeezing Cameron's hand, Jack sat down next to his wife, as the priest nodded for the guest to be seated.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Allison Christine Cameron and James Evan Wilson..."

* * *

She had his eyes and her hair. She had their spirit.

* * *

"You sure as hell better love me after this!" Cameron growled, squeezing Wilson's hand as she suffered through another contraction. Wilson nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. Exhaling loudly, Cameron collapsed back against the bed. Letting go of Wilson's hand, she apologized for almost fracturing his phalanges for the third time in the last ten minutes. Wilson smiled, kissing his wife's dewy brow. "Where's Lisa?" she asked, pushing her covers fully off of her body. Wilson shook his head. 

"I talked to her about half an hour ago, and she said she was on her way. Maybe traffic?" he guessed aloud. Cameron nodded, wincing.

"Hand," she demanded, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. Wilson obliged immediately, unconsciously switching hands. A low moan escaped Cameron's throat, and her grip loosened. Her breathing slowly returned to normal. "I think I'm getting close," she said. Wilson interpreted her meaning correctly.

"I'll go find Dr. Laine...and House," he said, standing and hurrying out of the room. Five minutes and four contractions later, all three doctors hurried back into the room.

"Alright Allison, let's check your progress," Dr. Laine said cheerily. Fighting the overwhelming desire to kick her obstetrician in the face, Cameron spread her legs and allowed Dr. Laine to check. "You're at ten, fully afaced. You can push, Allison". Nodding, Cameron reached out for Wilson's hand, which she received. Bearing down, Cameron pushed hard against the pressure in her abdomen, crying out in pain as she felt her body begin to spread.

An hour passed of the same hard labor. As she was beginning to feel dizzy with exhaustion, Cameron gave a hard push and felt the pressure decrease phenomenally. In the buzz of her ears, she could hear Dr. Laine.

"It's a girl, Allison," she laughed, holding the screaming pink baby up for Cameron to see. Breathing heavily, Cameron smiled, her lips pressing against Wilson's eagerly. Kissing her forehead, cheek, nose, and lips, Wilson felt his heart swell with each of his daughters loud cries. In the corner of the room, Cuddy stood back to front with House, his arm draped loosely around her waist. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Cuddy crossed the room and hugged Wilson tightly, before stepping aside to allow the LPN's and Dr. Laine to begin cleaning up both Cameron and the baby. Hugging House shortly, Wilson walked back over to Cameron's bedside and kissed her again.

"She's perfect," he said over the lump in his throat. Cameron nodded through her tears.

"I hope you mean your kid and not Cameron. Her naughty bits are going to be all stretched out forlike, a month," House said plainly. Cuddy smacked his arm irritably, rolling her eyes.

For ten minutes, Cameron and Wilson watched the activity in the room, before a smiling nurse brought over a bundle of pink blankets and placed it in Cameron's open arms. Staring down at their daughter, Cameron was struck by how much she already looked like Wilson when he was a baby. Her eyes shone with the same spark, and her cheeks stuck out with the same pudge. The only thing that wasn't all-Wilson was her hair. Thick almond curls graced her head, completely different from Cameron's bald crown when she was born. The room quieted as the nurses and doctors vacated the room, leaving only the Wilson family, House, and Cuddy.

"What's her name?" Cuddy asked, her voice thick with emotion. Cameron looked up at Wilson, and smiled.

"Evan Lindsay," she said, grinning down at her sleeping daughter. Wilson's heart was pounding so fast he was sure it was going to explode.

"Evan," he tested softly, running his thumb over her forehead. Cameron nodded and smiled.

"Evan."

* * *

Even now, they still have the same fire in their eyes. The fire, however, permeates into their arguments, and leads to burns. In the end, though, the fight prevails and they return to home base: love.

* * *

"EVAN! Let's go!" Cameron called up the stairs to her six year old daughter. Wilson walked through the hallway, searching desperately for his suit jacket. 

"Al, where's my black suit jacket?" he asked, opening the hall closet for the third time.

"I don't know, James. EVAN!" Galloping down the stair, Evan jumped onto the landing, squealing. "Evan, put on your coat and let's go. We're going to be late." Evan squirmed out of Cameron's grasp, grabbing her coat off the banister and donning it. Picking up her purse and Evan's book bag, she called out to Wilson, who had disappeared upstairs. "Jimmy, we're gone!" she shouted, twisting her scarf around her neck and pulling the door open, allowing a biting blast of cold air to whip through the house. "I love you," she called as she closed the door behind her, chasing Evan out. Opening the back door to her Explorer, Cameron helped Evan into her car seat before shutting the door. Just as she shoved the keys in the ignition, James stepped out of the house, briefcase in hand, and hurried over to his Volvo. Throwing his bag into the backseat, he crossed in front of the Explorer, kissed Cameron through the open window, and opened the back door to kiss Evan. Wishing them a good day, Wilson got in his own car and pulled out behind Cameron, heading in the opposite direction.

Evan was late, and therefore, Cameron was late. Hurrying into PPTH almost half an hour late, Cameron tugged her lab coat on over her emerald green turtleneck. Stepping into her office, Cameron threw her bag angrily in the corner. House had left PPTH three years ago to spend time with Cuddy and their son, Sam (though his reasoning was that life would just never be the same without his ducklings...yeah, right), leaving the position of Chief of Diagnostics open for the taking. Cameron had gotten it, naturally, and now worked alongside Wilson, instead of under him. Sitting down at her desk, Cameron heaved a sigh, before picking up her phone to check her messages.

Wilson had seen her come in, her face stricken with frustration. Sighing, he now sat in his office, waiting for a good ten minutes before going to check on her. Pushing out of his chair, Wilson traversed the hallway and strolled into Cameron's office, knocking on the doorframe as she used to. Looking up from her computer, Cameron smiled softly.

"Hey you," Wilson said, sitting down in the chair in front of Cameron's desk.

"You found your jacket," Cameron observed. Wilson nodded.

"It was in the upstairs hall closet. Biff was sleeping on it," Wilson said. Biff was the large, mean, orange cat that Evan had insisted on keeping after their neighbors refused to feed the behemoth anymore. Evan named him Biff, Cameron called him Satan, and Wilson just chose to ignore him.

"I hate that damn cat," Cameron said, turning back to her screen. Wilson chuckled, before standing.

"Are you going to pick Evan up?" Cameron asked before he left. Wilson stopped turning.

"No...I thought you were going to pick her up today and take her to dance". Cameron looked at him, anger flushing her face.

"James, I told you last night that I can't take her today! I have a meeting at 3". Wilson thought for a moment and groaned.

"Okay, I guess I'll cancel my meeting with Hansen," he said, hoping his irritation wouldn't sound in his voice. Cameron was smarter than that, however.

"No, don't. I wouldn't want to inconvience you, James," she spat bitterly. Wilson raised his hands in defeat.

"I'll come back later, when you've calmed down," Wilson said, immediately regretting his word choice. Cameron's eyes flashed.

"You know what James...," she started. Wilson sighed heavily.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me".

"Oh, just get the hell out. I'll pick Evan up".

"Fine!" Wilson spat, turning and storming out of the office. Slamming her fist against the desk, Cameron picked up the phone to rearrange her schedule.

The guilt, of course, was overwhelming. When Wilson arrived home that evening, he noticed that Evan's light in her room was already off, and realized that he wouldn't have the chance to play with his daughter before he went to bed. Sighing, he knew that nothing good waited behind the rich oak door of his home. Crossing the threshold quickly, Wilson shed his coat and set his briefcase down.

"Allie?" he called, directing his voice towards their bedroom.

"I'm upstairs, James," she called, her voice alight with irritation. Ascending the stairs, Wilson loosened and removed his tie and slid his feet out of his shoes. Placing them at the top of the staircase and draping his tie over the banister, Wilson pushed the door to their bedroom open. Cameron lay in bed under the covers, her glasses on the end of her nose, reading. She closed the book when he came in and set it on the bedside table.

"Hi," he said, lying down on the bed, resting his head on her flat stomach. Cameron placed her hand on the nape of his neck, running her fingers through his hair.

"You're a real prick sometimes, you know that?" Wilson chuckled slightly.

"Yeah". Cameron sighed, feeling the anger rush from her body.

"She drew another picture. It's on the fridge," Cameron said, sliding down so as to be face to face with Wilson.

"Le Réfrigérateur et le Louvre," he said, smiling. Cameron placed her hands on his face and kissed him deeply, resting her forehead against his.

"I love you Jimmy," she said, her voice lusty.

"I love you too, Allison".


End file.
